Shelter
by rabbitheart444
Summary: "...Kurt did not move his eyes from the sleeping boy lying in his arms. The very same boy that just two hours earlier had been hysterically crying, unable to stop to form coherent sentences." Rated T just to be safe.


**After hearing Birdy's cover of Shelter, originally by The XX, this idea popped into my head.  
><strong>**I recommend you listen to Birdy's cover of Shelter. It's absolutely breathtaking.**

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><p>"<em>I still want to drown whenever you leave,<br>Please teach me gently how to breathe"_

_**- Shelter by Birdy.**_

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><p>The sun was falling behind the trees and houses of the neighbourhood, leaving behind a pale red glow that was seeping through the curtains. It was a warm kind of atmosphere. Gentle and irrefutably romantic. If you stayed quiet enough, as the two boys did, you could hear the wind brushing through the trees outside and also the delicate songs of birds, flying and resting amongst the breeze in the branches.<p>

The clock on the wall was ticking away and with each second, Kurt did not move his eyes from the sleeping boy lying in his arms. The very same boy that just two hours earlier had been hysterically crying, unable to stop to form coherent sentences.

Blaine had arrived at Kurt's house in a complete state. There was a blue and black bruise forming on his cheek and his chest was heaving, as if struggling for air after sprinting for miles. When Kurt asked what had happened, Blaine had explained briefly that his father had been drunk and hit him but gave no explanation as to why. So Kurt didn't press for any more information and he simply took him in his arms, led him up the stairs and sat with Blaine as he weeped into his shoulder.

He had cried non-stop for an hour, screaming loudly and clutching tightly to his boyfriend's arms. Then, those tears turned silent. He lay his head upon Kurt's chest, their limbs tangled together, and let the tears fall silently. Occasionally, his breath would catch in his throat. Kurt would soothingly rub his back, shushing and cooing over the miserable boy. Finally, he had fallen asleep. His breath had evened out and Kurt just didn't have the heart to move him. He looked so beautiful, despite the painful mark left upon his face from his father's anger, and despite the tear tracks down his slightly stubbled cheeks. He looked calm, as is head rose with each breathe Kurt took.

The calm, however, was short lived. Blaine's eyes shot open and his body hurled itself upright, causing Kurt to jump in surprise.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, worry and panic evident in his voice.

He was breathing hard and unevenly, as if breathing had become the hardest thing in the world. A panic attack.

"Look at me," Kurt ordered gently, turning his head to face him with his hands. "Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Copy me."

Blaine did as he was told. Anything to stop the feeling in his chest, like a piece of rope was wrapped around his lungs and was being pulled tighter and tighter. His heart was beating erratically, like it was going to explode any second and he would die there and then, in Kurt's arms.

It took a good few minutes for Blaine's breathing to become regular again, with Kurt's hand rubbing his back rhythmically and his soft, breathless voice uttering calming instructions and affectionate phrases.

"Better?" Kurt finally asked, to which Blaine simply nodded, feeling unable to speak.

Kurt instructed him to lie back down, taking his hand in his own and squeezing it gently. Blaine did as he was told, resting his hazy head upon Kurt's pillows and shutting his eyes as he took several deep, wonderful breaths.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Kurt asked, lying beside him, on his side, with his eyes fixed upon Blaine's profile.

"Yeah." Blaine breathlessly answered.

"You're okay here, Blaine," He told him, their hands still entwined. "You're safe with me."

"I dreamt... that he killed you." Blaine's voice came out as an airy whisper.

"Who? Your father?"

He nodded, shutting his eyes tightly again as his chest rose and fell, hot air passing through his lips as he attempted to keep his breathing steady.

"I'm still here, Blaine," Kurt spoke quietly, scooting closer and resting his forehead on the side of Blaine's head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I was scared that... that he was going... to get me next."

"I wont let him."

"It felt like I was drowning."

Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine's bruised skin, and then several more, before squeezing at Blaine's hand again.

"Do you want me to get you some ice?"

"No, I've had worse before."

Kurt's heart cracked a little bit more at the statement, but made no comment.

They lay there, still, for a few more minutes, in complete silence, just revelling in each other's company. The reddish glow from the setting sun had faded, and now the room was almost completely black, with nothing but the glow of the moon seeping through the curtains and the light from the hall way, leaking through under the closed door.

"I told him about you."

Blaine's voice was sudden, breaking the silence of the room, though still small and fragile. Kurt lifted his head slightly, resting it on top of his arm.

"Is that why he hit you?"

"He was drunk," Blaine responded, as if trying to excuse his father's actions. "He gets angry a lot when he's drunk."

"Why did you tell him if you knew he'd get angry?"

"I didn't intend for it to come out," He said. "He was calling me those... words, telling me that I was a... a waste of space and... stuff like that. So I told him. That he was wrong. That you cared about me."

"And he hit you." Kurt's eyes were already starting to fill with tears.

"Y-yeah," Blaine's voice cracked. "And then I left."

Kurt nodded, sniffing and letting his head fall back down onto the pillow. He didn't understand how a parent could intentionally hurt their child like that. Strangers were different. Obviously, in an ideal world, Kurt would argue that strangers should be compassionate for their fellow human, but that ideal world wasn't a reality. So slurs, offences and insults were common, but from parents? What happened to loving their offspring unconditionally? It sunk his heart and reminded him all too well that his own father's reaction to his confession could have been completely different. He was lucky, despite everything he'd been through. Luckier than he gave himself credit for.

"You're not going back." Kurt insisted.

"I have to." Blaine said.

"No, Blaine. I can't let you go back. I don't want you to be hurt again." Kurt's voice rose as he sat up, criss crossed legs.

"I don't want to go back, Kurt," Blaine said, his voice much quiet in contrast to his boyfriend's. "But I have to. I have no where else to go."

"Stay here."

Blaine pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared at Kurt, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness.

"Kurt, I can't ask you to do that for me."

"Yes, you can," Kurt insisted, leaning forward and placing his hands on Blaine's broad shoulders. "I won't sit by and let what's happening to you in that house slide. I can't do it, Blaine. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Blaine whispered, tears filling his eyes again as he looked into Kurt's similarly watery, blue ones.

"My dad will let you stay in the spare room," Kurt promised. "He'll go to your house tomorrow and insist they give him some of your clothes so that you don't have to go back. You're gonna be okay."

"For tonight, can... can I stay here with you?" Blaine asked tentatively. "I don't wanna be alone."

Kurt nodded, before leaning forward and placing a soft, delicate kiss to his boyfriend's slightly chapped lips, wrapping his arms around his waist. Their foreheads rested together as they pulled their lips apart.

"You'll never be alone again," Kurt promised. "Not if I can help it."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading. :) <strong>


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